Disorganization and Poetry Bits

Yesterday I cleaned out my google drive for the first time since…it came into existence? Since the beginning of my high school career? Since I pledged to be a responsible high school student as to eventually evolve into a functioning adult and consequently failed to follow through on this at least once per minute? Sounds about right. Though Sydney and actual folders separating actual folders of actual folders of actual documents (yes, I got a little folder-happy) rarely occur together naturally, there was in fact a silver lining. It’s like cleaning your room, or the basement, or a mysterious attic of ancient relics-the process usually yields more discovery (and therefore distraction) than organization. So when your drive is a certified black hole comprised mostly of blank documents graced with a single sentence/to-do list and last year’s despicable lab reports (newly deleted, good riddance) (just kidding, I kept them, what if I need them in 5 years?) (although I’ve officially sworn off of chemistry rooms) (but at least they’re in a folder now, and easily ignored), you come across some gems. Namely, the lovely little midnight stanzas that originate with a keep-you-up sort of phrase or idea or even a mere word that’ll make quite the ruckus if you just let it bounce between your ears (determined little buggers, aren’t they?). Anyhow, the most persistent of the bunch ended up floating around in their new google-doc forms, to be unearthed and given their very own folder on a fateful December day. I must confess, I play folder favorites- I do hope the Chemistry folder isn’t jealous (but frankly, I don’t care). And while I won’t bore you nonexistent blog-readers (or myself) with molar relationships, I suspect you’ll soon be well acquainted with my Poetry Bits as I (hopefully) nurture them into fully fledged poems.

Enough rambly intro already! What better way to start this blog than with a sappy mother’s day poem, amirite? (Yes, I’m aware that mother’s day is a fair ways off but my moms are cool cats every day and when I came across this one it made me all sentimental-like) May as well get out of the way the fact that I’m a complete and utter cheeseball.

 

Love Mama

My Mama used to hoist me up to see

Our reflection in the mirror

Between front door and living room

And whilst I reached towards a cheek

Too smooth to be my own,

                   Her dimples would catch the light

Of her question-

                         “What do you see?”

And my eyes would seek the eyes that were both hers and not,

before I’d respond with the words we both knew

Were truth –

                  “Love, Mama”

 

Later, my legs stretched down to meet

The floor of a different hallway;

The mirror resting upon a new wall,

In a new house.

But I could not for the life of me

Face myself in its depths

Without

Searching for stale whispers of

         “Love, Mama”

 

I find the phrase elsewhere,

Etched into deltas that form by her eyes

When she smiles; mirrors reappear with the

Proud river-tears and fill them for only

A moment, but it is our moment and

My heart beats with

“Love, mama”,

 

Echoes the secret code of

Her hand in mine,

My fingers less sticky than in memories

And faster too- sometimes I “love you more”

First, because I do “love you more” than yesterday, and the yesterdays have

Grown along with mind and limbs and girl

So that the heap of them resting within

My ribcage have to spill out somehow

 

In a chorus of “love, mama”

 

No longer in need of a lift

To see my own reflection,

Teetering between what was and

What the image may still be

I find comfort in what I don’t need

A mirror to see

For I am composed of “love mama”s

And maybe someday a “love mama”

Is waiting out there for me.

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